


Dirty Danse'n

by emmadilla



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [20]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Making Out, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 16:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: Charley convinces Danse to live a little as they relax in the Third Rail and he lets her teach him how to dance.





	Dirty Danse'n

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day OTP Challenge
> 
> Day 20: Dancing
> 
> \-----
> 
> This officially makes 100 fics for me! Woohoo!
> 
> Also, I am not sorry one bit about the glorious pun in this title. Don't @ me.

The music swirled around the smoky atmosphere of the Third Rail, entangling its inhabitants, soothing their wayward souls, inviting them to sit down, relax, drink their sorrows away. While Danse did not normally partake heavily in such activities, Charley had dragged him down here anyway, enticing him to relax and … how did she put it? Oh yes … “remove the stick from his ass”. He’d rolled his eyes at her vulgarness, but allowed her to drag him here anyway. There was just something disarming about the former Gunner, something that made him want to do what she told him to do, even if it wasn’t necessarily something he was interested in.

 

At the moment, she was walking back from the bar, two beers in hand. She handed one to him before she plopped down next to him on the couch, no semblance of personal space between them as her body pressed up against his. At first her lack of understanding regarding space had irritated him, especially when it seemed to occur in situations that didn’t warrant it. However, he then noticed that _he_ was the only one she was like that with, and after some more fumblings and miscommunications, they had finally come to an understanding and, eventually, eased into their current state of relationship. Which was … well, Danse wasn’t really sure. Boyfriend and girlfriend seemed too cliché, too immature. Anything else seemed too formal and rigid, exactly the opposite of how Charley was. He eventually settled on the term “significant other”, only because a) he couldn’t think of any other applicable term, and b) Charley was indeed very significant to him.

 

They casually finished the beers and Charley settled her head on his shoulder, humming along to some of the last bars of the music before it died out completely. Not for long, though, just until the next song started, and then she suddenly jumped to her feet with a whoop. “I love this song! C’mon, dance with me!” she exclaimed, tugging on his hand, though he stayed put. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, still standing there holding onto him.

 

His eyes darted to the floor as he gnawed on his lip. “I, uh … I don’t …”

 

“You don’t know how to dance?” she finished for him before she laughed. “There’s nothing to it. Just listen to the music, let it _fill_ your bones, and then just … move …” Charley flashed him a smile before she murmured, “Watch me.”

 

And watch her he did, every sway of her hips, every surface of her body that her fingers swept over, the way her eyes focused on him and only him, as if they were the only people in the room, as if they were the only people in the entire _world_. He sucked in a sharp breath as her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip before it tucked between her teeth in a seductive ploy. And damn was it ever working. Danse’s hand twitched, wanting so badly to join her, but afraid. Afraid of doing something wrong, afraid of looking like a fool … afraid of letting go. It was a constant struggle for him, after so many years in service to the Brotherhood, where he always had to be in such tight control of himself, of his emotions and desires. Charley had been working with him, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just let go of overnight. Most times, she was gentle, understanding. She’d come close and croon in her soft, deep voice every encouraging word that Danse needed to hear.

 

But other times, like this time, she laughed and lunged toward him. “C’mon, I’m not having you sit there all night while I dance. I only do that if there’s caps involved.” Winking, she pulled him to his feet and close to her, her hands guiding his on where she wanted them to be. His brows furrowed as he struggled to figure out what to do, but she chuckled. “Don’t overthink it, just be. Live in the moment. Feel it. Can you? Can you feel it, Danse?”

 

He swallowed, but listened, drowning out the sounds of the drunk patrons and honing in on the song that was being sung. This kind of thing wasn’t native to him, didn’t come naturally, and so his movements were a little stuttered at first. But with Charley’s encouragement and nudging, he managed to find some sort of rhythm. He held her close, looking deep into her eyes as their bodies moved around and with each other, at times separating to full arm’s length and other times so close there wasn’t any space in between them. He had to admit, the activity was rather enjoyable, and if the smile on Charley’s face said anything, she enjoyed it, too. And honestly, that was enough for him, enough of a reason to even try something like this in an environment like the Third Rail, a place where a lot of people still viewed him as the upstanding Brotherhood Paladin, despite the fact that he was more or less out of the organisation, at least in spirit if not in name. For now. Arthur had promised him he was welcome back, gave his word that he would always have a place in the Brotherhood of Steel. And maybe he would return, one day. At the moment, he was still grappling to come to terms with who and what he was, trying to dissect and figure out exactly which memories were real and which were implanted, and ultimately who he was underneath it all.

 

Not an easy or comfortable prospect. In the grand scheme of things, he decided that dancing was much easier.

 

Pressed against Charley, their foreheads touching as they moved, he felt an almost strange, innate connection. They had been intimate, of course, Charley wasn’t exactly one to move slow once she confirmed her target. But this … this somehow seemed … _more_. Danse wasn’t even sure he could put words to how it was, it just … was. The worries and the cares of the world slipped away until all he was focused on was the woman in his arms. In the Third Rail, doing was he was doing, he felt naked and vulnerable. But with Charley’s help, the wannabe feelings of shame was brushed away, like her presence covered him, covered his scars, his imperfections, his vulnerability. All the things that he wouldn’t want anyone else to see, she saw. She saw and she didn’t judge and she just danced with him.

 

As the song wound down, she reached up and kissed him. Not lasciviously, not sloppily, just a kiss. Just short and sweet and everything Danse needed, a balm that helped soothe over the ever-present ache in his chest that had settled in after the truth had been revealed to him. She parted and smiled as the next song started up. “It’s a slow one this time. You up for another dance?”

 

His lips twitched in a smile, one he rarely gave. “With you? I’ll dance all night.”

 

Her grin widened as he felt her subtly grind against his thigh. “Hopefully not _all_ night …” He had to laugh at her antics as he held her close for the slow song, kissing her forehead as his arms circled her, one of his hands wandering to rest on her lower back, right under where her waistband laid. Not satisfied with how slowly he was moving, she moved his hand for him to cup her ass before she settled back into his arms. She flashed him a mischievous grin as she purred, “Better.”

 

Danse shook his head. “You are trouble.”

 

She kissed the very tip of his nose. “And you like it.”

 

“I like _you_ ,” he felt the need to correct.

 

Charley rolled her eyes. “Enough with the semantics and just kiss me already.”

 

She kept hold of the lapel of the flannel shirt he wore as his head dipped so his lips could meet hers. They only brushed lightly against each other at first, Danse relishing the moment before he pressed them firmly against hers, feeling how her full lips practically melded to hers. They parted, just barely, and Danse took his opportunity and on the next kiss his tongue breeched her mouth, getting her to moan softly as she naturally bucked against him. This whole thing, this whole experience, was completely new to Danse. Making out with a woman at a bar in a ghoul infested neighbourhood as they danced and she lightly ground against his thigh while her hands brushed against a certain growing hardness in his pants …

 

Yeah, this was pretty out of character for Danse, or at least who he’d thought he was. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure who he really was anymore, but he was pretty sure that since he enjoyed this, there was at least a little part of him that enjoyed this dirty dancing.


End file.
